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COPYRiGHT DEPOSm 



Windows That Shine 



H^indows that Shine 



By Carrie Shaw Rice 



Author of 
In Ch'ildland Straying," '^ Where the Rhododendrons 
Grow,'' Etc. 



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Copyright, 1922 
BY CARRIE SHAW RICE 



1922 

PRESS OF 

SMITH KINNEY CO. 

TACOMA 



DEC 14 1922 



C1A690569 



DEDICATION 



TO 

MY BROTHER AND SISTERS 

LOREN, NELLIE AMD LORINE 

THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY 

DEDICATED 



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

Acknowledgments are made to Harper's, Phila- 
delphia Ledger, Midland, Overland, Success Maga- 
zine, and other publications, in which some of these 
poems first appeared. 

For permission to set any of the poems to music 
application should be made to the author. 



CONTENTS 

PART I.--WINDOWS THAT SHINE. 

Page 

Windows That Shine 15 

Playmates 16 

Moods 17 

Haven 17 

June's Rosary 18 

Sunburst 19 

Blower 19 

My Mother's Blue Eyes 20 

April Sweet 21 

Comrades 22 

As Breath of Trailing Arbutus 23 

Bride's Bouquet 23 

Let the Sun Out 24 

The Fir Tree and the Honeysuckle 25 

Dispossession 26 

If My Love Should Return (Triolet) 27 

Vision 27 

Remembrance 28 

Happiness 29 

Anchorage 30 

Nesting 31 

Three Stars 31 

Sleep, Little Mother, Sleep 32 

Radiance 33 

Pink Iris 34 

When the Rain Comes Slanting Down 35 

I Slept in the Old House Where You Were Born 36 

The Pipe of Emptying 37 

Flashes (Mothers) 38 

Glow of Gold 38 

Bars 38 

Cloud Forms 39 

Star Magic 39 



Page 

In the Clouds 

What You Are to Me 

Dark '^ 

„ 43 

Dawn 

44 
Edited - 

Christmas 

A New Leaf 

PART II.--HEARTSEASE. 

The Planets' Ball 

The Fate of Grumble Town ^^ 

Don't Be Afraid, Little Boy ^^ 

57 
Going to China 

A Visit to the Old Man of the Sea 59 

How Katy Didn't - ^^ 

When the Children Come Home from School 64 

The Bird on the Withered Tree 66 

CO 

At the Crossing 

The Upright, Downright Boy 69 

Right of Way "^^ 

72 
By the Cowyard Bars 

A Song of Cheer '** 

The Little Man Who Couldn't Keep Still 74 

The Castles of Drowsy Town "^6 

78 
The Barge of Dreams 

80 
Driving the Cattle Away 

Robin and His Merry Men ^^ 

Child-Eyes and I ^^ 

The Burglar Night ^^ 

The 

The Maiden and the Bluebird ^^ 

The Poet's Song ^^ 

87 
The Prince of Dreams 

88 
Momotara 

To a Puget Sound Salmon ^^ 

The Mother Rabbit ^'^ 

Q1 
Motherless Children 

A Look at the Baby ^^ 

The Rebuff ^^ 

93 
The Dreamy Way 

The Boy and the Nodding Trillium 9* 

March 



Housing Problem 



Page 

Saint Patrick's Day 95 

April Fool 96 

The Child Among the Daisies 97 

Waving Grain 98 

The Boston Owl 99 

Apple-Tree Town 99 

The Poet's Dilenuna 100 

Truly Valorous 101 

Mrs. Pool Casts Reflections 101 

Prudent Mother Earth 101 

The Little Man From How-Land 102 

PART III.--WORLDS. 

The World of Want— Part 1 105 

The World of Want— Part II 107 

Destruction of Carthage 109 

At Philippi 110 

Liberty Bell Day 112 

In Memory of Donald Hankey 114 

Flame It On 115 

Song of the Marching Feet 116 

The Maiden to Diana 118 

The Star 119 

Brothers 119 

The Problem 120 

The Gold Seekers 122 

The Glory Hole 124 

Hold the Torch High 126 

The Two Candles 127 

Memorial Morn in the Cemetery 128 

The Children's Flowers 129 

Speed the Day 130 

The Rose of Peace 132 

PART IV.---MEMORY PRINTS 

Michigan Woods , 135 

In Count Okuma's Gardens 136 

Here's to the Land of the Blossoming Cherry 136 

Baroness Albert d'Anethan 137 

In Gramercy Park 138 

Westport-by-the-Sea 139 

On California's Russet Hills 141 



Page 

Where the Rhododendrons Grow 142 

Morro Rock 143 

At Funeral Pyre of Joaquin Miller 144 

A Line or Two 146 

PART V.--SONNETS. 

Mount Tacoma 149 

Mount Tamalpais 149 

California 150 

The Peaks at Dawn 150 

Unrevealed 151 

Tacoma, the Rose of the West 152 

The Rare Old, Fair Old State of Washington 153 

Enchantment 155 

Laughter Town 156 

Seal It Away 157 



Part I 

WINDOWS THAT SHINE 



WINDOWS THAT SHINE 

My House Of Loving 

Hath 

Windows that shine . . . 

Blue violets 

Are thoughts 

At the white sills. . . 

Pink morning-glories 

Laughter, 

Rippling to the roof. . . 

The Stream called Living 

Runs hard by. . . 

Each pulsing wave 

Leaps to the windows' shine. 

And— 

Singingly— 

A bit of glory 

Rides away 

Upon its breast. 



—15- 



PLAYMATES 

I was afraid of you, Life ; 

So daring and rude you seemed— 
While others joined in the game 

I stood on the edge — and dreamed. 

I heard you frolic and shout, 
I saw you leap in the fray, 

While I stood timidly by, 

Too shy to share in the play. 

But, ah! today Love came 
And drew me into the ring. . . 

And now, with you, Life, 
I leap and frolic and sing! 



-16— 



MOODS 

The world is very old today. . .afar, 

The ancient hills forlorn, 
Like futile giants doze (a stubble-growth 

On grimy chins, unshorn . . . ) 

Adown the canyon sounds your motor-horn ! 

I laugh, I run with eager arm outflung. . . 
Like conquering gods of old the virile hills 

Trumpet their joy. . .the world is very young! 



HAVEN 

The fringes of the pepper trees are hung 

With pendent pearls; 
In trailing veils of mist, the phantom fog, 
Wavers and swirls. . . 

With questing, groping steps my way I make, 

All stumb 'lingly ; 
When lo ! a light, an open door, your arms 
Enfolding me. 



•17— 



JUNE'S ROSARY 

Like a string of pearls slipping 

through the fingers of God, 
The white days run — 
Like fairy feet skipping 

through portals of light, 
Like sea-doves dipping 

where billows roll bright, 
The white days run — 
Like new souls tripping 

down sky's blue sod, 
Light pearls slow slipping 

through the fingers of God — 
From scarlet sun 
Unto scarlet sun, 
The white days run. 

Like a string of pearls slipping 

through the fingers of God, 
The white days run — 
Like nectar dripping 

from the heart of Youth's rose, 
Where Time sits sipping 

Life's sweet as it flows. 
The white days run — 
Like new souls tripping 

down the sky's blue sod, 
Like pearls slow slipping 

through the fingers of God — 
From scarlet sun 
Unto scarlet sun, 
The white days run. 



—18— 



SUNBURST 

Ho, fairy jeweler! 
Price me a sunburst, 
Here in your crystaline shop 
By the wayside . . . 
Diamonds rayed out 
On emerald grasses — 
Quick, ere my Lady 
Persephone passes! 



BLOWER 

A giant, 

Under the rim of the world, 

Is blowing 

A crimson bubble 

From a long-stemmed pipe — 

Slowly it grows 

And glows 

Against the flame-blue 

East. 



—19— 



MY MOTHER'S BLUE EYES 

Blue things are beautiful. . . 

I love blue skies, 
And the flash of wings 

Where a bluebird flies. . . 

The blue of the sea — 

When a light wind frets — 

The tender blue 
Of the violets. . . 

But, blue of the sea, 
Bird, flower and skies — 

All shine for me 

In my mother's eyes! 



^20— 



APRIL SWEET 

What has chanced in Blossom-land, 

Can you tell "? 
Have the fairies spilled their wine 

Through the dell? 

Pretty hamadryad there, 

In your tree, 
What has chanced in Blossom-land— 

Can you see ? 

All the air's a-drench with sweet, 

Zephyr-stirred — 
What's the news in Blossom-land, 

Have you heard? 

April — emerald draperies 

All a-swing — 
Is throwing kisses, sweet-my-heart, 

To the Spring. 



—21— 



COMRADES 

Up and up and up I reached 

Through the blue morning, 

And— 

There was God's hand. 

He held my fingers close 

The while 

The sky broke into blossoming — 

That was His smile. 

Now, every morn, I stand 

On some sweet sod, 

And reaching high and high and high, 

Through violets and roses of the sky. 

Shake hands with God. 



—22— 



AS BREATH OF TRAILING ARBUTUS 

As breath of trailing arbutus, on winds 

Of spring; 
As soaring note from flushing skies, of lark 

A-wing ; 
Color and light and minstrelsy, to me 

You bring; 
You trail your fragrant way into my soul . . 

And sing ! 



BRIDE'S BOUQUET 

A radiant bride, 

In her going-away gown. 

Pauses 

On the gold steps 

Of the west. 

To throw her bright bouquet- 

With trailing ribbons — 

Far 

Across the sky, 

For laughing clouds 

To catch. 



—23— 



LET THE SUN OUT 

Smile, pretty Day, don't get up with a pout; 
You've left your clouds all tumbled about! 
Make up your bed, and smooth it right, 
Put on the counterpane, blue and white . . . 
Wash your face in the dew — and then 
Smile, and keep smiling and smiling again! 

Brighten the sky, 

Put the clouds to rout — 

Let the sun out! 

Smile, busy world of women and men. 
Though downed in a bout, up and at it again ! 
Make your bed with courage and vim — 
You must lie on it when the night falls dim — 
Bathe in the dew of Hope, and then 
Smile, and keep smiling and smiling again! 

Brighten the world, 

Put the coluds to rout — 

Let the sun out ! 



—24— 



THE FIR TREE AND THE HONEYSUCKLE 

The fir tree on our lawn 
Stood like a young knight, 
Tall and dark and slim. . . 
With air austere and lone 
He gazed forever star-ward . . . 

The honeysuckle at his feet 

Reached up and up, 

Until at last, she rested 

On his breast, 

And formed a bower of cloying sweetness 

Round his head — 
From where she looked down laughingly 
Upon the modest garden flowers below. . . 

She thought them envious, not knowing 

They were sad 
Because they saw 
Their friend, the tree 
Was dying. 



—25— 



DISPOSSESSION 

Autumn is at the door — ■ 

Come in, come in! 

I know what it's all about, 

I saw you put Summer out; 

No grace did you give her — 

Her face all a-quiver 

She went away. 

Lonely, 

Over the moor. . . 

No time to pick up her things- 

Her music 

Lies scattered about, 

In the rills, 

In the breeze, 

In those swaying trees . . . 

That's here blue veil 

Trailing 

Over the hills, 

It slipped from her head 

As she fled. 



-26— 



IF MY LOVE SHOULD RETURN 
(TRIOLET) 

If my Love should return 

In the dusk of the gloaming... 

All sadly I yearn — 
If my Love should return, 
When stars whitely burn 
"Would I chide him for roaming ; 
If my Love should return 
In the dusk of the gloaming? 



VISION 

And now the dream is over, 
A last farewell to you. . . 

I look on high and joy to find 
My skies still blue. 

The stars to golden melody, 
Are dancing still above. . . 

It was not merely love of you 
But. . .love of love. 



—27— 



REMEMBRANCE 

I found the face of Spring 

Pinkly aglow, 
Led by the arbutus 

Under the snow. 

And, kneeling above it, 

I started to see, 
The eyes of my first love 

Shining on me. 



—28— 



HAPPINESS 

I hurried 

Down the Road of Youth 

Pursuing Happiness ; 

But ever, 

She went dancing on before — 

Or shyly peeped 

From unseen hiding-places 

As I passed. . . 

At last, — 

Worn-out and weary, — 

I sat me down 

Beside the sea, 

To talk with God ; 

And there was Happiness ! 

Sitting among the dunes — 

With forget-me-nots in her hair. 

And laughing 

With jocund waves 

That shouldered tiny rainbows in 

To break in beauty 

At her feet ! 



—29— 



ANCHORAGE 

As unto Delos drifting, 

At mercy of each vagrant wind that roamed 

The blue Aegean Sea. . . 

As unto Delos drifting 

Came golden-eyed Apollo, 

And the glad isle, so deified 

Grew fixed and stable — 

Sheltering a god. 

Such way unto my heart — 

Like Delos drifting — 

At mercy of each fretful wind of circumstance 

A-roam upon Life's sea. . . 

Such way came golden-eyed 

Young Love, in shining halo. 

And careless now how winds of fate may rage, 

My errant heart, at last. 

Finds anchorage. 



—30— 



NESTING 

I listen for him 

Of my life a part . . . 

Full, full to the brim 
Is my heart. 

His eyes are dim 

As he whispers, ''Wife, 
Now full to the brim 

Is life." 



THREE STARS 

One star gold, 
One star red, 
One star holy white 
Glowing overhead. . . 

Red for my True Love, 
Gold for me, 

White for the starry soul 
Yet to be. 



—31 — 



SLEEP, LITTLE MOTHER, SLEEP 

Sleep, little mother, sleep. 
In dusk of dawning, cool and deep; 
The eastern sky is shot with red. 
The stars are paling overhead; 
Thy baby's limbs are straight and fair. 
He hath his father's sunny hair; — 
No more thine anxious eyes shall weep, 
Sleep little mother, calmly sleep. 
Sleep, little mother, sleep. 

Rest, little mother, rest, 
His dewy lips are at thy breast; 
Against thy side, so faint and sweet, 
The pressure of his tiny feet; 
A queen thou seem'st, lying there, 
His father's kisses on thy hair; — 
In God's dim dawning, hushed and deep, 
Sleep, little mother, sweetly sleep. 
Sleep, little mother, sleep. 



—32— 



RADIANCE 

SnoAv on the mountains, 

Ice in the brooklets, 

Frost on the pine trees. 

But warmth — warmth in the heart of me. 

Dark on the mountains, 

Dusk in the valleys. 

Shadows enfolding, 

But light — light oil the face of my Love. 



—33— 



PINK IRIS 

Pink and gold and blue 

Are memories of that day — 

The day at Horokiri, 

Where we saw the pink iris. . . 

Gold for the sunlight 

Spilling down 

From freshly-scoured 

Skies of June, 

That fortieth year 

Of Mieji. 

Pink for the iris — 

And my cheeks 

When you named your price 

In kisses, 

In the shadow 

Of the ancient tea-house. 

Usurer ! 

Could not I, 

Alone, 

Have found the pink iris? 

Blue for the Sumidagawa 

Down which we drifted. 

And for your eyes 

Wrapping me in their blueness. 

While O cha — the Honorable tea — 

Grew cold, 

To the amusement of an almond-eyed nesan, 

Smiling and bowing 

Lacquer tray in hand . . . 

Memories pink and gold and blue — 



-34- 



WHEN THE RAIN COMES SLANTING DOWN 

When the rain comes slanting down, 

And the forms of the great fir trees 
Loom through the misty gloom 

On desolate days like these ; 
Then it's 0, my Loved and Lost, 

And Love with the eyes of blue. 
On desolate days like these 

My heart cries out for you. 

From lips that would whisper of love, 

I turn in the firelight glow 
To dream of a lonely grave 

Where the rain-wet lilies blow; 
For it's 0, my Loved and Lost, 

And Love with the locks of bro^n. 
My heart cries out for you 

When the rain comes slanting down. 

My heart cries out for you 

When the days are bright and fair, 
But when the rain slants down. 

And a gray mist fills the air; 
Then it's Love with the blue, blue eyes, 

And the radiant locks of brown. 
But to share your narrow home 

When the rain comes slanting down. 



—35— 



I SLEPT IN THE OLD HOUSE WHERE YOU 
WERE BORN 

I slept in the old house 

Where you were born ; 
I came to it by fields 

Of yellowing corn. 

Across the fragrant paths 

Your feet once knew, 
The black-eyed Susans leaned 

And spoke of you . . . 

Beside the window stood 

Your oaken chair — 
The stars were out, the night 

Was very fair. . . 

At dawn, a wistful wind 

Walked in the corn — 
I slept in the old house 

Where you were born. 



-36— 



THE PIPE OF EMPTYING 

"List to the Utsubo Bashira, the Pipe of Emptying." 

— Buson Yosano. 

The season's rain is here. The sodden leaves 
Lie dank, where nesting swallows chirped in 
spring, 
And droning to the dripping eaves, I hear 
The Pipe of Emptying. 

And does it murmur of the summers gone ; 

Or mourn for merry birdlings now a-wing, 
That sighingly its leaden throat complains — 
The Pipe of Emptying? 

Before the hearth I sit in Autumn garb — 

The fire gone low, and no one left to sing. — 
While from my roof of Life I hear its flow, 
The Pipe of Emptying. 



—37— 



FLASHES 

. . . Mothers . . . 

I saw the heavens open, 

And Mary, 

With the blue sky as a shawl, 

Lean down 

And gather 

All mothers sorrowing 

for their sons 
To her white bosom. . . 



GLOW OF GOLD 

The sun shone out 

A moment, 

Strangely luminous, 

As though God smiled — 

Suddenly — 

At what the angels told. 



BARS 

Long bars across the west. . . 

The white sun 

Peering through 

Like to a wan-faced prisoner 

Taking a last long look 

At the good earth 

He is about to leave. . . 

—38— 



CLOUD FORMS 

Two giant forms 
Clinched — 

As in ferocious combat- 
Slowly disintegrate 
The while I gaze, 
Even so, men. . . 



STAR MAGIC 

A primrose bar, 

A star. 

And mystery 

Of worlds afar. . . 

God, art Thou near? 

A shining beam, 

A gleam, 

And ecstasy 

Of Love's white dream 

God, Thou are here. 



-39— 



IN THE CLOUDS 

In a downward arch of the clouds, 
That was rocked on the billowy air, 

A silver-white star lay alone, 

Like an innocent little one there. 



Like a snowy-robed infant asleep, 
Or the soul of some glorious dead, — 

In state lay the glimmering star, 
Alone on its cradle-like bed. 



Like a glorious soul that is free, 

It lay in its beauty of white, 
Asleep in its cradle of clouds 

That was rocked on the bosom of night. 



Thin curtains of mystical blue. 

Trimmed in white, filmy cloud-lace. 

Were drawn from the cradle aside, 
Where a zephyr just held them in place. 



Then, slow, as the picture dissolved, 
A white arm reached out in the blue — 

And a beautiful fancy was mine, 
As my eyes grew dim with dew. 



I thought, when our Father shall find 
Us, silent in death's chilly sleep — 

With strange, smiling eyes looking up 

To where the white clouds sway and weep ; 



—40- 



He will look on our folly and sin — 
Tired children, who ^vill not awake — 

And pardon, with pitying tears 

For our innocent babyhood's sake; 

And, with souls grown spotless as then, 
With the laces of mists for our shrouds, 

He will take up His poor, weary babes, 
And rock us to sleep in the clouds. 



—41 — 



WHAT YOU ARE TO ME 

What the bird is to the forest, 
The flower to the lea, 

Rain to the desert — 
You are to me. 

What the star is to the sailor. 
The breeze to the sea, 

Heav'n to the homeless — 
You are to me. 



—42- 



DARK 

The wind laughs over the housetop, 
Like a child in frolicsome mirth, 

And dark, like the veil of a mourner, 
Drops over the face of Earth. 



DAWN 

The beautiful Lady of Night, — 
Grown pale in the changing light — 
Gathers the stars in haste and locks 
Them safely away in her jewel-box. 



—43- 



EDITED 

Once Heart and I fell quarreling — 
Hard by the Wishing Tree — 

Heart said, with hurt, accusing eyes, 
''You stole those lines from me." 

But Life came by, and hearing cried, 
"Don't bicker, foolish Poet; 

When I have edited the song 

Nor you, nor Heart will know it." 



CHRISTMAS 

''Christmas," lisp the snowflakes, 
Swirling on the breeze — 

"Christmas on the housetops 
Christmas on the seas." 

"Christmas," says the Lady Night, 
Lighting starry lamps, — 

"Christmas by the fireside, 
Christmas in the camps." 

"Christmas," blush the Hollies 

In the tapers' glow, — 
"Get your Christmas kisses," 

Laughs the Mistletoe. 

"Christmas," thrill the young stars, 
To the reaching Pines, — 

"Christmas on the mountains, 
Christmas in the mines." 

"Christmas," croon the mothers, 
Where babes drowse and nod ; 

"Christmas," murmurs Mary, 
By the throne of God. 



—45— 



A NEW LEAF 

He came to my desk with a quivering lip, 

The lesson was done — 
''Dear Teacher, I want a new leaf," he said, 

''I have spoiled this one." 
I took the old leaf, stained and blotted, 
And gave him a new one, all unspotted. 

And into his sad eyes smiled; — 

''Do better now, my child." 

I went to the Throne with a quivering soul— 

The Old Year was done — 
"Dear Master, hast Thou a new leaf for me? 

I have spoiled this one." 
He took the old leaf, stained and blotted. 
And gave me a new one, all unspotted, 

And into my sad heart smiled; — 

"Do better, now, My child." 



—46— 



Part II 

HEARTSEASE 



THE PLANETS' BALL 

One violet night, 

When clouds were light 
As a dream just floating away, 

The gallant Mars 

Invited the stars 
To a dance in the Milky Way. 

From the turquoise walls 

In the entrance halls, 
Gleamed many a welcoming light 

On the crystal doors 

And the marble floors 
Of mystical, milky white. 

Now the gallant Mars 

And his train of stars, 
The gayest of all the gay, 

At half past eight. 

With hearts elate, 
Arrive at the Milky Way. 

Then soon on the hush 

Comes the rustle and rush 
Of banners and fluttering wings, 

And the sound of wheels. 

And the tinkling peals 
Of golden bells on the distance swells 
And throbs and echoes and rings; 



-49— 



For, rolling over the field of blue, 
The open gateway glittering through, 

With courtiers bland 

On either hand, 
And beauteous maidens at her command; 
Bright as the glow of a sunset dream — 
Her chariot drawn by a butterfly team. 

With escorts and guiders 

And manly outriders, 
The Princess Venus in state appears 
In midst of music and echoing cheers. 

Great Jupiter comes in his coat of flame, 

Escorting the Asteroid girls, 
One in a gown of emerald green. 

And one with auburn curls ; 

And Mrs. Saturn, arrayed in Avhite 
With her eight pretty moons, is a lovely sight ! 

In the midst of mirth. 

The beautiful Earth 
In a robe of beryl appears. 
And is greeted with hearty cheers ; 
Then Neptune gives her his arm, and they 
Go whirling adown the Milky Way; 
But pause when they reach the end of the hall. 
For the dancers there have assembled all, 
And merry faces begin to fall. 
For the fiddlers are late at the Planets' ball. 



-50— 



Then rings a shout 

From the gates without, 
Through the courts of the Milky Way, 

And now, revealed 

In the azure field 
Approaches a grand array; 
To merry music of swinging spheres, 
Slowly the dazzling army nears. 

As up the arch. 

On his wondrous march, 
To blare of bugles and roll of drums 
The stately leader, Orion, comes. 

With princely grace. 

He takes his place 
On a throne of silver and pearl; 

Now ready are all, 

Now opens the ball. 
Now step, now hop and now whirl! 
And who can vision the wondrous scene? 
The lights of soft, mysterious sheen. 
Falling over the sapphire walls, 
The open courts and the entrance halls; 

The rhythmic beat 

Of the dancing feet. 
As they form in a ring 
And circle and swing, 
And daytime care to the breezes fling; 

Orion's throne, 

And the wild, sweet tone 
Of the music's spell as it rises and swells 
And thrills and echoes and trembles and dwells 



—51 — 



Till the heavens shake, 

And the angels wake 
To list to the musical throb and roll 
Like the glorious song of a ransomed soul, — 
And strive its tremulous course to trace, 
As it faints and dies on the rim of space . . . 

The gallant Mars, 

And a group of Stars 
Go circling over the heights; 

By glittering ways 

They dance to the blaze 
Of the beautiful Northern Lights ; 
And Venus, upon their return has made 
The Big Dipper full of orangeade ; 
And all go up to the Crystal Bar, 
And drink the health of the Evening Star. 

Comes the Pleiades, 

With indolent ease. 
On the arm of the Man in the Moon ; 

And all goes well 

As a marriage bell 
Till after the midnight noon, 
When a careless fellow from Sapphire Vale, 
Chances to tread on a Comet's tail 
And a challenge follows ; but Marshal Mars 
Arrests the whole of the Shooting Stars ! 



—52— 



In the silvery light 

Of their starry height, 
They dance till the night is done; 

Then say good-bye, 

And over the sky 
Roll homeward, every one . . . 
The music dies with a quivering thrill 
As Orion rides down a violet hill, 
And the Dog Stars only are left, to bay 
Through the empty courts of the Milky Way. 

The Sun of the Earth- 
Though a lad of worth — 
Next morning forgets to rise ; 
Sweet Venus retires, 
And the day expires 
Ere ever she opens her eyes; 
And the careless fellow from Sapphire Vale 
Is bruised by a stroke from the Comet's tail, 
And limping over the saffron lawn. 
Loses himself in the crack of dawn. 

Poor Saturn is sad, 

She cannot be glad. 
For soiled is her mantle of white ; 

But her eight pretty moons 

Are crazy as loons 
For another such wonderful night ; 

And the gallant Mars 

Has promised the Stars 
That on some mystical future day. 

They w411 meet and dance 

Again, perchance, 
In the courts of the Milky Way. 

—53— 



THE PATE OF GRUMBLE TOWN 

Here are the ruins of Grumble Town, 
And here is the pathway stretching down, 
To where the waters so blankly frown 

In the face of the smiling sun; 
And there is the spot where the Princess sat, — 
The vain little Princess Ernestadt — 
While wishing the terrible wishes that 

Were granted as soon as done. 

The song birds sang in the leafy wood, 

The froggies croaked as loud as they could, 

The sun was going to bed as he should 

When the cross little Princess went 
And sat her down by the river's side, 
And sullenly gazed in the rushing tide. 
And moped and gazed and grumbled and cried. 

Till she gave her feelings vent. 

And said: ''I wish that the frogs would hush, 
I wish that the waters would cease to rush, 
I wish that the west would never flush 

With the sunset glow any more ; 
But ever the sun keep blazing down 
Till it burned the world to a coffee brown, 
And all of the people in Grumble Town 

Fromi the palace down to the shore." 

The milk of kindness was changed to curds 
In the breast of a fairy who heard her words. 
And she hushed the songs of the singing birds, 

The frogs at once grew still; 
The sun flew up to the zenith high. 
And blazed and gazed with a brassy eye, 
Till it burned the people brown and dry. 

Thus workinsr the Princess' will. 



-54— 



Seeing the woe she had brought about, 

The little Princess began to pout, 

She tried to complain, — her tongue fell out. 

So she tore at her golden hair; 
And in the face of the heaven's frown, 
The tongueless race to die lay down. 
And that was the end of Grumble Town, 

And of all the people there. 



—55— 



DON'T BE AFRAID, LITTLE BOY 

Don't be afraid, little boy, 
From your stolen day in the wood ; 
Tangled and tousled and ready to cry — 
Don't be afraid, little truant, I 
Would run away too, if I could — 
Don't be afraid, little boy. 

Don't be afraid, little boy — 

But tell me how far you fared 

Where lilies sway by the singing brook — 

Don't gaze at me with that frightened look, 

I would run away, too, if I dared — 

Don't be afraid, little boy. 

Don't be afraid, little boy, 
Were the trilliums tall and white? 
And the salmon-berries a paly gold. 
And the frisky squirrels pert and bold — 
I would run away, too, if I might — 
Don't be afraid, little boy. 

Don't be afraid, little boy, 

For truants at heart are we 

In the School of Life — but we'll do our best 

To stick to the task, and leave the rest 

To the Master's love and charity — 

Don't be afraid, little boy. 



-56— 



GOING TO CHINA 

Looly Bolooly and Billy Cum Bell, 

One day while wandering through the dell, 

Came to a hole in the yielding sand 

That led straight downward to China-land. 

Said Looly Bolooly, ''I have no doubt 
That we can go down and find our Avay out. 
My Nursey has said that it leads right down 
And into the beautiful China-town." 

''Suppose we go," said Billy Cum Bell, 
'Must think of the stories that we could tell 
When we got back, of our wondrous trip 
To people who go in a stupid ship." 

"Why as to that," said Looly Boloo, 
"I think I would like it as well as you;" 
So she took off her bonnet and threw it down, 
And smoothed her clustering curls of brown; 

And Billy Cum Bell took off his hat. 
And both were ready when he'd done that; — 
So shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand, 
They started downward for China-land. 

Past where the roots of the grasses grow, 
Past where the springs of the fountains flow, 
Right through the rocks, and the sands and claj 
Our brave little travelers took their way. 

They came to a bed of the purest gold. 
But 0, not half could their pockets hold! 
They broke through a strange and darkish crust 
And sprinkled themselves with shining dust. 

—57— 



They came to a city with narrow street, 
Swallowed and smothered by earthquake heat; 
They called on the petrified king and queen 
And took both their crowns and robes, I ween. 

Beautiful jewels the children found 
In that dark palace, beneath the ground; — 
The mumimies escorted them out of town 
And wished them a prosperous journey down. 

They came to a spot where the lava was thick 
But held their breath and swam through quick, 
It singed their lashes and scorched their hair, 
But never a straw did the swimmers care. 

Down, down, downward they went on their way. 
Until one sultry, slumberous day, 
A couple in royal robe and crown 
Stood right in the center of China-town. 

And the people shouted with wild delight. 
Laughed and shouted with main and might ; 
And they built a beautiful golden throne 
That the children knew was to, be their own. 

And there they ruled the city at will. 

And there they might have been ruling still. 

Had not the hour come round to sup 

And noisy Leigh came and... woke them up! 

For the King and the Queen of China-town, 
Where the rays of the setting sun fell down. 
Lay fast asleep, with their tangled hair, 
A royally dirty and worn out pair. 



— 5&— 



A VISIT TO THE OLD MAN OF THE SEA 

Looly Bolooly and Billy Cum Bell, 
Whose curious doings I've promised to tell, 
"Went down to the beach one summery day 
To watch the big, blue waves at play. 

Now there was a log on the pebbly beach. 
That offered a nice little seat for each; 
And there they sat, very still and wise, 
Big hats shadowing big brown eyes. 

Each with a face as grave as could be, 
Each with an elbow upon a knee ; 
Little brown chins in little brown hands — 
Bright blue waters, shimmering sands. 

And then each heaved a dolorous sigh, — 
You know the meaning as well as I — 
Four little feet were bare in a trice, 
0, but the water was cool and nice ! 

Said Billy Cum Bell, ''I wish that we 
Could find that queer old Man of the Sea 
Nurse read about in my 'Rabian Nights,' 
My, but couldn't he show us sights!" 

Then Looly Bolooly peering ahead, 

Said she was sure she could see his bed ; 

So they started out in frolicsome glee 

For a tramp on the sands, down under the sea. 

A flat old flounder eyed them askance, 
A young crab led them a pretty dance ; 
The sea-grass twisted itself in their toes. 
And tickled them hugely, as you may suppose. 

—59— 



They asked a sea-cow, sitting at tea, 
Where lived the dear old Man of the Sea ; 
But she only said, with an affable smile, 
To simply follow their noses awhile. 

At lengthy they came to a tumbled room, 
Silent there in a green sea-gloom ; 
The doors and windows were opened wide, 
But never a soul could they find inside ! 

So the children thought they would look about,- 
As many grown folk would, no doubt — 
And under the edge of the sea-weed bed, 
They chanced on a basket of rubies red. 

Now Billy Cum Bell was a boy of pluck. 
So he took out a handful — just for luck — 
And next they found a basket of pearls — 
O, so tempting to brown-eyed girls ! 

Just then, with a terrible rush and roar, 
There entered in at the open door 
The queer old, dear old Man of the Sea, 
With a bucket of jellyfish for his tea. 

And then, with horrible snorts and groans, 
He shook the children, he took the stones. 
And sent them home in a terrible fright — 
Was host e'er heard of so impolite? 

But the strangest part of my tale is to tell. 
For Looly Bolooly and Billy Cum Bell, 
Neat and dry from toe to crown. 
Big hats shadowing eyes of brown. 

—60— 



Sat on the beach, when Nurse came along, 
To take them over to Grandma Strong — 
And they told the story, as yon have heard, 
And she wouldn't believe a sine^le word! 



—61— 



HOW KATY DIDN'T 

One Saturday evening, Grasshopper Green 
Tied on his new cravat, 

Parted his hair, 

With infinite care. 
And put on his tallest hat; 
And as he skipped o'er the waving fields 
A grasshopper gay was he ; 

For he wistled and sang 

Till the lily-bells rang 
To the sound of his noisesome glee. 

Close by the spring lived old Mrs. Did 
Alone with her daughter Kate, 

And Grasshopper Green 

Might often be seen 
Lingering there by the gate ; 
For Grasshopper Green loved Katy so fair, 
And picture his quick dismay, 

To find her tonight 

In the lessening light, 
Conversing with Grasshopper Gray. 
But quickly concealing his jealous fears, 
He took off his hat and bowed; 

His face was pale, 

And his heart would quail. 
But his voice was merry and loud, 
"Now, really," he cried, "I am pleased as Punch, 
At meeting you. Brother Gray, 

And Katy, the pride 

Of the green river-side, 
Am I finding you well today?" 



-62- 



Now Katharine Did was a bit of a flirt, — 
Like many a lass you have seen, — 

And as Grasshopper Gray, 

Was rich in his way, 
She slighted Grasshopper Green. 
But Grasshopper Gray with his eyes half shut, 
Was reading her like a book, 

And little she guessed 

Of the thoughts in his breast, 
From his sleepy, affectionate look. 

When Grasshopper Green went home that night, 
A grasshopper sad was he ; 

But Grasshopper Gray, 

Kissed Katy, they say. 
In the shade of the sycamore tree, 
''Money or love," mused beautiful Kate, 
"Which, ah, which shall I say, 

Loving and lean, 

With Grasshopper Green, 
Or rich with Grasshopper Gray?" 

But alas ! for all of the flirting girls, 
And alas ! for the lovely Kate ; 

Alone she sits. 

As daylight flits, 
Watching the garden gate. 
For a sad old maid is Katharine Did, 
As Grasshoppers Green and Gray, 

With their new cravats. 

And tall silk hats, 
Came never again that Avay. 



—63- 



WHEN THE CHILDREN COME HOME FROM 

SCHOOL 

As the children came home from school, I stood — 

While shadows began to fall, — 
And watched for the gleam of a snowy hood 

And the flash of a scarlet shawl; 
And a big fur cap on a curly head, 

And a jacket of navy blue — 
My boy and girl, with cheeks as red 

As the sunset's rosiest hue. 

Then, turning, I drew the table out. 

And laid on the snowy cloth, 
And smiled when I heard their ringing shout 

At sight of the steaming broth. 
A laugh, a rush of the frosty air, 

A hood and cap on the chairs, 
A boy and a girl at the table there. 

As hungry as twenty bears. 

They tell me a story of woe and wrong — 

Another, of pleasant tricks — 
Then how the teacher was all day long 

As cross as any two sticks ! 
''And were you good, my Susie and Jim?" 

''O, mamma," they cry, ''we were, 
And what she easily proves by him. 

He readily proves by her. 



? 7 



—64— 



"My darlings must ever be good and kind," 

I say, with an inward sigh, 
And then in my heart, "May they never find 

A judge less gentle than I." 
And, O, when the Father of all, above. 

Shall call us from earthly rule. 
May He as fondly excuse and love 

His children, come home from school. 



—65— 



THE BIRD ON THE WITHERED TREE 

As I sit by the open window, 

Where roses sway and creep, 
In the sleepy hush of the nooning, 

A-singing my babe asleep ; 
He comes with a rush and a flutter, 

And merrily sings with me, 
Of hope and love in the future — 

My bird on the withered tree. 

"O, beautiful birdie," I tell him, 

"The trees all around are green, 
In the shade of their leaves are singing 

The birds of your race, I ween ; 
Then why do you come, with your plumage 

Far brighter than those, I see, 
In the sleepy hush of the nooning, 

To sing on a withered tree"?" 

Then he says : ' ' One beautiful summer, 

A bird with a yellow breast, — 
With an ebon heart in the center, — 

Came here and built her a nest ; 
And she reared the merriest birdies, 

And one was the one you see. 
And all of the branches then were fair 

And green on the withered tree. 



Now the birds and the nest have vanished, 

And every emerald leaf, 
I can hear the branches moaning 

Sometimes, in their lonley grief ; 
So I come when the noon is hottest, 

And fill all the air with glee, 
In hope of bringing the freshness back 

To the heart of the withered tree." 

Say I "Your example has taught me, 

O, bird on the withered tree, 
A beautiful tender lesson that 

Will ever remain with me. 
And I think, as I kiss the baby, 

O, will he prove to be, 
When I am faded and old, as kind 

As the bird on the withered tree?" 



—67— 



AT THE CROSSING 

Now at the crossing, boy, you stand, 
With sturdy heart and strong right hand, 
Ruddy cheek by the breezes fanned, 
And sunshine streaming o'er the land. 

Boy at the crossing, look, awake ! 
O, be sure of the road you take. 

Boy, at the crossing now, beware, 
For many roads are crossing there, 
And Sin's deceitful thoro'fare 
Seems bright and smiling — have a care ! 

Study well before you choose. 

Which you will take and which refuse ! 

Right roads crossed by roads of sin, 
Naught to tell but the voice within, 
Where right shall cease and wrong begin; 
You'll be tempted; men have been; 

For strange roads cross roads everywhere, 
And you at the junction, boy beware ! 

Pause at the crossing, boy, today. 

And count the cost, dear, while you may ; 

Think of the mother far away. 

And breath the prayers she used to say; 

Then all your doubts will disappear. 

And show the right road, straight and clear. 



THE UPRIGHT, DOWNRIGHT BOY 

Now who is this goes by, 
His face alight with joy? 

0, it is he, I'll guarantee, 
The upright, downright boy. 

For the upright downright boy, 
With heart and conscience free. 

Is gay and bright 

From morn till night, 
As any prince can be. 

His heart's a mine of wealth, 
That earth can ne'er bestow. 

Should Vice allure. 

He 's always sure 
To give a downright "No"! 

For the upright, downright boy, 
The right boy up and down 

Is richer far 

Than princes are, 
Awaiting kingly crown. 

Though rogues may often win. 
They're sure to fail at last; 

Though crooked ways 

May purchase praise, 
Its sweetness soon is past. 

But the upright, downright boy, 
In any age or place. 

Is always found, 

The world around, 
First in the final race. 

—69— 



RIGHT OP WAY 

Count life as a field, 

With a path for each one 
Of the children upon it, — 

Each daughter and son; 
Don't ask for your heritage, 

Faintly and low, 
But earnestly, honestly, 

Modestly go — 
Claiming the right of way, 
Making the right of way. 
Taking the right of way, 

Whether or no. 

The way may be rough, 

And the people be rude. 
For you are but one 

Of a vast multitude ; 
Don't rail at the selfishness, 

Often revealed, 
But let it inspirit you 

Never to yield. 
Claiming the right of way. 
Making the right of way, 
Taking the right of way, 

Over the field. 



—70— 



Though thousands should stand 

To dispute you the way, 
Go fearlessly, calmly, 

Right onward each day. 
The password is "Energy," 

On through the throng, 
Go modestly, pleasantly, 

Pushing along. 
Claiming the right of way, 
Making the right of way. 
Taking the right of way, 

Singing your song. 

The meadow is broad 

You are starting to cross; 
Go ready for danger, 

For sorrow and loss. 
Then, room on the thor'fare 

Room on the lea. 
And way for the resolute 

Army we see. 
Claiming the right of way. 
Making the right of way, 
Taking the right of way. 

Merry and free. 



—71— 



BY THE COWYARD BARS 

While the kine looked on with reproachful eyes, 

And waited outside of the cowyard bars, 
On the dewy grass at the milking hour 

He lay as he gazed at the dawning stars, 
And who knows what they were saying to him? 
For his wondering eyes grew bright — grew dim — 
While they danced in glee and seemed keeping time 
To his quickened heart in its throbbing rhyme. 

''Is the milking done?" said his father's voice, 
''What, here are the cattle outside the bars, 
And that stupid boy lies there in the dew 

With his face upturned to the moon and stars." 
And the boy stood up and was scolded well 
For how could the father, impatient, tell 
Of the heights to which he would some day rise. 
His stupid boy, with the dreamy eyes? 

My children, how could the father know 
That a great astronomer earth can show, 
Stood faltering there in his little son 
Who was late in getting the milking done? 
But weary of honors, in after years, 
A man looked back, through smiles and tears, 
To the old home scene, and the silver stars. 
And the dreaming boy by the cowyard bars. 



-72— 



A SONG OP CHEER 

Come, banish that frown from your face, 

The planets are whirling through space ; 

The roses are blowing, 

The grasses are growing, 

The rivers are rushing to sea; 

Shall you, and you only stand still? 

Arise, go to work with a will, 

Don't pause at the foot of the hill 

To sigh for what never can be. 

Though crossed in some beautiful hope, 

Don't sit in the stillness and mope; 

With wrongs to be righting, 

And foes to be fighting. 

Each moment is precious as gold ; 

The rivers rush on all the day, ' 

The planets whirl round on their way. 

Be ready and steady as they 

And see what the future will hold. 



—73- 



THE LITTLE MAN WHO COULDN'T KEEP 

STILL 

A funny little man lived up on a hill. 
Such a funny little man for he couldn't keep still, 
He would dance to his work and dance to his meals, 
And tiring of his toes, he would dance on his heels ! 

One dark night in May he was coming from the town 
Where he'd bought his little wife a pretty yellow 

gown — 
When alack and alas ! he danced off the bluff 
And down, down he went to the waves high and 

rough. 

Down, down he went, to the bottom of the sea, 
Where a shark and his family were dining cozily, 
But though a little hungry, he decided not to, stay 
For the cold bite they proffered, and hurried on his 
way. 

He came to a sea-horse and danced on its back 
And rode till they came to the Straits of Skager 

Rack, 
Where the sea-horse's wife and little ones three 
Were making macaroni in their cave by the sea. 

Our funny little man made his toilet with care. 
For some of the mermen, and mermaidens fair, 
With a wale and his wife, from the blue Zuyder Zee^ 
By special invitation were coming there to tea. 



—74- 



Wlien the mermaidens came — so wonderfully fair — 
With ropes of shining pearls in their long, gold 

hair — 
Our hero seized the fairest and down the ocean's 

track 
They danced far away from the Straits of Skager 

Rack ! 

And they waltzed and they waltzed and they waltzed 

in their glee 
Till they came to her home neath the Sargossa Sea, 
Where her seven sisters sat in their seaweed swings, 
Arranging pearls and rubies on seaweed strings. 

But the eddy and the whirl of the Sargossa Sea, 
Kept the little man a-dancing, fast as fast could be 
For the grassy waters caught him, and he couldn't 

get away. 
And the funny little fellow may be whirling there 

today ! 



—75— 



THE CASTLES OP DROWSY TOWN 

Away in the Castles of Drowsy Town, 

The lights are twinkling high, 
The fays are pulling the curtains down. 

And the winds are wandering by. 

The Giant Night in his robe of dusk, 

Is coming over the hills, 
He's bringing an odor of rose and musk, 

And a ripple of distant rills. 

This black man is as high as the sky. 
And his eyes shoot starry gleams — 

And his pockets are ready to burst, well nigh 
With l)undles of children's dreams. 

He moves with a soft, mysterious tread 
Through the scented dusk and damp. 

And he carries the moon upon his head. 
As a miner carries a lamp ! 

And straight for my little ones cometh he 
When twilight is dropping down. 

And bears them swiftly away from me 
To the borders of Drowsy Town. 

0, the gates are open on ev'ry side, 
And the children are trooping in, 

With dainty cap strings cunningly tied 
Right under each dimpled chin. 

And the fairies gently tuck them away. 
In hammocks of lilies and down, 

And there they sleepily swing and sway 
In mystical Drowsy Town. 

—76— 



Then the Giant Night, in his robe of gray, 

Departs for a scene of mirth, 
Where brown little Chinese children play 

On the other side of the earth ! 

So, farewell to the Castles of Drowsy Town, 
And farewell to each winsome fay; 

By heath and hill, by dale and by down, 
The children are hasting away. 



—77— 



THE BARGE OF DREAMS 

O, were you ever in Drowsy Town, 
Just when the dusk was dropping down, 
And the fairies' lamps were blazing high — 
Did e'er you happen to wander by? 

And did you follow the beaten way 
In through the gates at the close of day, 
And down to the quay where twinkling gleams 
Show at her moorings the Barge of Dreams? 

The children clamber over her sides 
As lazily she at anchor rides, 
Until with a slow and rhythmic sweep, 
She moves a-down the River of Sleep. 

Bright are the glints in the waves below, 
Lusty the voices that shout ''Y'ho!" 
As under the arch of the Rainbow Gleams 
Merrily glideth the Barge of Dreams. 

Sometimes a mischievous elf will strand 
The boat on the shoals of Nightmare Land, 
Where goblins lurk in the hollow trees, 
And bats sail by on the somber breeze. 

For, the River of Sleep, you understand, 
Runs through the region of Starry Land, 
Where oft the brownies and fays and gnomes 
Are wandering far from their rightful homes. 

Sometimes they float over purple miles 
And touch a moment at fragrant isles, 
Entranced by echoes of music sweet. 
And distant patter of dancing feet. 

—78— 



And the children drift in the white moon's track 

With never a notion of turning back, 

Till all in a trice, the lighted quay 

And towers of the Drowsy Town, they see. 

Under the arch of the Rainbow Gleams, 
The merry crowd on the Barge of Dreams, 
Over the misty waters sweep 
Plome from the isles in the River of Sleep. 

Home from their trip into Starry Land, 
Safe from the shallows of Nightmare Strand, 
All in the care of their Captain Rest, 
Float they home on the river's breast. 

But ''haste ashore" is the order noAv 
Scramble out over stern or prow. 
And up through the streets of Drowsy Town, 
Quick, ere the castle walls are dow^n! 

For the restful shadows, dark and sweet, 
Are chased by the sunbeams' flying feet; 
The Day appears, with its pomp and din. 
And the walls of the city are crumbling in. 



-79- 



DRIVING THE CATTLE AWAY 

The pretty white cows of Apollo were lying 

At peace in the pasture one day, 
When a mischievous boy came flying and drove them 

O'er the blue meadows away, away, 

O'er the blue meadows away. 

Apollo, Apollo, 

O, hasten to follow, 
Your pretty white cattle in peril doth stray; 

O, follow, Apollo,, 

By hill and by hollow. 
Goes Mercury driving your cattle away ! 

The flowers in fragrance spring up in his pathway, 

He's fresh as the showers of May, 
And he whistles and sings as he chases the cattle 

O'er the blue meadows away, away, 

O'er the blue meadows away. 

And dear little children look up into Sky-land, 

And merrily pointing they say, — 
As snowy clouds drift across the blue heavens — 

He's driving the cattle away, away... 

He's driving the cattle away. 



—80— 



ROBIN AND HIS MERRY MEN 

Beneath my favorite cherry tree, 
My Daddy pitched a tent for me; 
The cherry snow came drifting white 
Across my grassy floor at night. 

But now the bloom is gone ; instead, 
The cherries ripe and round and red, 
Are waiting, cool and dewy-sweet, 
Inviting boys to come and eat. 

One morning, peeping slyly out, 
I saw that robbers camped about; 
They tore away from emerald stems 
And bore away my cherry-gems. 

Said Robin Hood to Friar Tuck, 
''We'll leave a handful, just for luck;" 
(Gay Robin and his Merry Men 
Here at their eerie pranks again!) 

One robber robin chirped in glee, 
And flung a cherry-stone at me ; 
Another outlaw cried, ''I am 
The Sheriff, boy, of Nottingham." 

''My tent's my castle, sir," I said. 

As into it I drew my head; 

I kept my dignity, at least 

And left them to their cherry feast. 



—81— 



CHILD-EYES AND 1 

Child-eyes and I, 
In the wood together. . . 
O, the loveliness we saw 
In the April weather! 

Child-eyes and I, 

In the golden weather... 

0, the wondrous things we heard 

In the glades together! 

Arethusa's laugh, 
In the waves a-tinkle ; 
Pease-blossom's silver wings 
On the air a-twinkle. 

Plower-crown-ed nymphs, 
On the banks straying, 
Goat-footed Pan, 
All his pipes playing. 

Puck on his throne 

Of toad-stool sitting, 

Dainty Ariel 

With the winds flitting. . . 

But, walking there with Old-eyes, 
Grey grew the weather, 
And all the merry, elfin things 
Scampered off together. 



—82- 



THE BURGLAR NIGHT 

The burglar Night came stealing, 
A black mask over his face — 
And, "Up with your hands !" we heard him say- 
To the old clock there in its place. 

He crammed some silver minutes, 
And a golden hour in his pack; 
Policeman Day may catch him, 
But we'll never get them back. 



—83— 



THE HOUSING PROBLEM 

"This moving is a nuisance, 

But we've found the sweetest spot," 
Said Mrs. Worm, "We've taken 

A little apri-cot." 

Said Billy Worm, the bachelor, 

Always a trifle late — 
"Drop in and see me. . .Toodle-oo 

I have an early date." 

Said Newly-weds, returning 
From sporting on the beach — 

"Come see us when we're settled. 
Our new place is a peach!" 

Said surly, burly Uncle Worm, 

"You needn't feel so big; 
For all your fancy places, 

I wouldn't give — a fig!" 



—84— 



THE MAIDEN AND THE BLUE BIRD 

''Pretty little bluebird, 

Won't you tell me true, 
Why you wear a brown vest 

With your suit of blue?" 

''0, little maiden, truly, 

While flying very low, 
I brushed against the brown earth — 

Long and long ago. 

"And, once, my little maiden, 

While flying very high, 
My back and wings went brushing 

Against the summer sky." 

Saucy little bluebird! 

Singing, off he flew, 
In his pretty brown vest 

And his suit of blue. 



-S5— 



THE POET'S SONG 

A poet sang a little song 

Before the learned men of earth, 
And as the echoes died away 
The sages shook their locks of gray, 
And deemed the song of little worth. 

The poet sang the song again 

At even, by the ingle-nook — 
And children left their games of glee 
And crept, enraptured, to his knee, 
With hushed, expectant look. 

The poet's soul was satisfied; 

He gently laid the lyre away 
And took the children on his knee — 
''My little song will live," quoth he, 

"Forever and a day." 



—86— 



THE PRINCE OF DREAMS 

Galloping, galloping, galloping by, 
Over the hills and the hollows they fly. 
The prince of Dreams from over the sea 
And his dusky rogues from the Black Countree ! 

Galloping, galloping, galloping past. 
Following, following, following fast 
Go the children, lured by the dusky band 
Away from the wall of Wide-awake Land. 

Galloping, galloping, galloping on, 
He's taken the children and galloping gone. . . 
The Prince of Dreams, from over the sea. 
And his dusky rogues from the Black Countree ! 



—67— 



MOMOTARA 

To Madame Mahkmetiff 's little Chin 'Dog, Momotara 

0, little dog, to your mistress dear — 

Momotara, — 
What do you see with eyes so clear, 

Momotara "? 
What do you think of this world of bloom, 
With its sunny skies and sudden gloom — 
What do you think of it all, I say, 
And what do you think of us, pray? 

0, little dog, with the classical name, — 

Momotara — 
Content with never a dream of fame, 

Momotara ; 
You are wiser than human kind, by far, 
You would marvel to know how wise you are ; 
And, Momiotara, I tell you true, 
I would we were wise as you. 

Tokyo, Japan. 



—88— 



TO A PUGET SOUND SALMON 

Salmon of the Sapphire Sea, 
Tell thy story now to me; 
Flashing up the silv'ry streams, 
With thy dazzling glints and gleams 
Dancing where the water brawls. 
Leaping baby waterfalls — 
Marvelous thou art to me, 
Salmon of the Sapphire Sea. 

Prince in glittering coat of mail, 
Salmon of the silvery scale ; 
Very much to know, I wish, 
If you love the baby fish ; 
True, I know you point with pride 
To your schools beneath the tide, 
But the desks, I fear are low, 
Where the Hump-backed salmon go. 

Gleaming like a thing of light 
Through the meshes of the night; 
Hear me whisper through the sea — 
Spear and seine are waiting thee ; 
Veil thy beauties then and flee, 
But thy story leave with me ; 
Salmon of the Sapphire Sea, 
Let thy story stay with me. 



-«9- 



THE MOTHER RABBIT 

My cat, with the delicate, snowy throat, — 

So staid and so steady of habit — 
Now what have yon brought from the field today 

But a beautiful mother rabbit? 

Just think of the little ones in their bed, 
All waiting for mother to feed them ; 

They'll wake in the night and cry in their fright 
For mother, who will not heed them. 

0, kitty, so shy and pretty, 

You wouldn't have done it, would you? 
If you could have known of the babies alone — 

You couldn't have done it, could you? 

They'll cuddle close in their nest alone. 
All night they will watch and listen, 

Expecting to see through the dreary gloom 
Her brown eyes glimmer and glisten. 

And now to look at her, still and cold. 

In the sun on the threshold lying, 
While you look up with your innocent eyes 

And wonder because I am crying. 

For 0, kitty, so shy and pretty. 

You wouldn't have done it, would you, 

If you could have thought of the pain it has wrought, 
You couldn't have done it, could you? 



—90— 



MOTHERLESS CHILDREN 

I s^end this verse for a token, 

1 pledge these tears for a sign, 
Th^ t all the motherless children 

Are sisters and brothers of mine, 
No natter at all your station, 

No matter your name or years, 
I claim all the motherless children 

B^ the pathos of mutual tears. 

All aay we are going so calmly. 

Our duties' wearisome round, 
That none may know of hopes that lie 

Buried down under the ground; 
But when the daylight is ending, 

And all of its cares dismissed, 
When the willows are swaying gently. 

Where winds of the summer list; 

In the hush of the perfumed evening, — 

When the heart for awhile is true — 
When the stars look down in pity. 

And the cypress is wet with dew; 
We'll meet in the churchyard shadows, 

Where the sad graves lie in a line, 
Where all of the motherless children 

Are sisters and brothers of mine. 



-91— 



A LOOK AT THE BABY 

Come, yellow violets, 
Tip-toe up, buttercups, 

Sun, you may have just a peep 
Look at the size of her, 
Look at the eyes of her, 

Smiling at God in her sleep. 



THE REBUFF 

'Twas leap year, and so, 

I asked for a kiss — 

I shouldn't, I know, 

But it happened like this — 

His eyes were so blue. 

His hands so caressing; 

I knew that he knew 

"What my heart was confessing; 

So — I asked for a kiss, 

And it happened like this; 

His mother said, ''No," 

And went on with his dressing! 



—92- 



THE DREAJVIY WAY 

Roaming and roaming and roaming so late, 
Some one is seeking the Sleepland Gate ; 
Somebody peeps through the silvery slats 
With faint little rat-tat-tats. 

Is it the baby whose eyes wouldn't shut? 
Who lingered in Cry-land so long — tut, tut ! 
Come, Policeman, covered with stars. 
And down with the Dreamland Bars ! 

Down with the bars and open the gate ! 
Says the Lady of Night: ''It is very late 
For you, little love, little dove, to stray 
So far from the Dreamy Way." 



—93— 



THE BOY AND THE NODDING TRILLIUM 

Squirrels chattered 's if to say; 
*'Is that the boy that ran away?" 

Everything that I could see, 
Just stood still and stared at me. 

But, where a little wood-path led, 
I saw a flower nod its head, 

So, on I went a way — and then. 
It seemed to nod me home again! 



—94— 



MARCH 

Pedagogue Calendar sat at his desk, 
With his spectacles on his nose ; 
When in came tramping, 
And in came stamping 

Old Mr. Windy-Cum-Blows ; 
A noisy urchin followed him in, — 
With tousled hair and ruddy skin, 
Big wide eyes and a big, wide grin — 
And Pedagogue Calendar, smiling and arch. 
Cried, ''Bless my soul, if it isn't March!" 



SAINT PATRICK'S DAY 

Bud O'Malley, with his very red hair, 
And his very, very, very green tie; 
Sure, he was a pleasing sight 
For good Saint Patrick's eye... 

Sweet Miss Tulip thought him 
A new posy, without doubt ; 
And all agreed who saw him 
That Bud had blossomed out ! 



—95- 



APRIL FOOL 

An April sky, 

All smiling and blue, — 
Spoke the Sun to the Earth, 

'' Good-morrow to you." 

Said the wise, wise man, 
"No rain for to-day, 

So haste, little folk, 
To the w^oods away ! ' ' 

So, off to the woods 
With its leafy bowers. 

Went the boys and girls 
For the April flowers. 

But a roguish cloud 
Looked out of the sky, 

And smiled as the children 
In white, went by. 

And the tinkling rain-drops. 

Soft and cool. 
Laughed down, as they fell 

With an ''April Fool!" 



-96— 



THE CHILD AMONG THE DAISIES 

''Now where would you go, little maid 

O whither away?" 
"Where daisies are waiting for me, 

Tig there I would stray." 

"Of what do they speak, little maid, — 

The daisies so true?" 
"They speak of the bees and the birds, 

The sun and the dew." 

"Of what do you dream, little maid, — 

Where daisies are white?" 
"I dream of the Father who gives 

The flo.wers and the light." 



—97— 



WAVING GRAIN 
North Dakota 

A sky of sapphire blue, 

A long and fragrant lane, 
And far away as eye can reach 

A sea of waving grain. 

And like a timid child — 

Dainty and shy and sweet — 

The pink face of a wilding rose 
Growing among the wheat. 

Pink flower and sapphire sky, 
And emerald fields of grain, 

And One above, who guards alike 
The mountain and the plain. 

Forevermore shall stay, 

A memory passing sweet. 
Of one long drive through fragrant lanes 

'Mid swaying seas of wheat. 



—98- 



THE BOSTON OWL 

Bostonian owls, they say, 

In the dusk of a woodland way 

Call out through the twilight gray — 

Instead of To-who, 

As other owls do — 
To-whom, To-whom, To-w^hom! 

So highly grammatical they, [gloom — 

You may hear them call through the gathering 
To-whom, To-whom, To-whom? 



APPLE-TREE TOWN 

Three wise men lived in Apple-tree Town, 
So wise, each wore a big, big frown; 
But they couldn't tell whether — 

Ahem ! ahem ! — 
An apple seed points to the flower 

Or the stem ; 
'Tis sad, but true. 
That none of them knew. 
Do you? Do you? Do you? 



—99— 



THE POET'S DILEMMA 

A poet paused in the midst of his song, 

Struck by a thought so fine and strong, 

That he fairly gasped with glee ; 

But when he put it into his verse, 

So crisp and witty, so bright and terse — 

The rest of the poem at once became 

So weak and vapid, so: crude and lame. 

That the poet was frightened out of his wits 

And tore it into a thousand bits. . . 

And never again, be it noon or night. 

Or early or late, has he tried to write 

Until the Muse he has first besought 

To keep him safe from a brilliant thought; 

''Such things get into my work," saith he, 

"And spoil the sense of my poetry." 



—100— 



TRULY VALOROUS 

''The world has crying need," said he, 
''Of gifted men — like me. 
But the especial thing to do 
Requires reflection, deep and true ; 
I'm needed everywhere, 
And so to be quite fair, 
And chance no pangs of sharp regret, 
I've not done anything — as yet. 



J ) 



MRS. POOL CASTS REFLECTIONS 

Greedy Mrs. Pool 

Has told her star Ijoarders, — 

And they, in turn, 

Have spread it all about — 

That pretty Miss Moon 

Is on her last quarter, 

And will have to be 

Put out! 



PRUDENT MOTHER EARTH 

Good Mother Earth once took to task, 

Her pretty daughter Grass — 

A most flirtatious lass — 

"My dear, I do not like to see 

You take so many jewels from Mr. Sun," said she. 

—101— 



THE LITTLE MAN FROM HOW-LAND 

A little man from How-land 
Strayed intoi Cow-land, 
Perched on the gate and queried, ''How 
Many upper front teeth has a cow?" 

The folk, wise and wary, 

At work in the dairy. 

Paused from their labors 

And looked at their neighbors. 

One said he surely felt like a dunce. 

For he'd counted 'em more than once! 

One made a statement, 

One made a guess, 

While some said more. 

And some said less. . . 

The South wind laughed. 

The crickets chaffed. 

The poplars shook 

And whispered the brook; 

The Moon-man winked, 

The people of Cow-land blinked 

And said: ''Let's go and see!" 

But the little man only said: "Tee hee!" 

As he hobbled away from Cow-land — 

This funny little man from How-land! 



—102— 



Part III 

WORLDS 



THE WORLD OF WANT 

Part I. 

"And yet another 
Uplifts his voice, to let me know a brother 
Travels the same dim road, though out of sight." 

—City of Dreadful Night. 

I stood upon a morning height and saw 
The aeons roll. I caught the light of time 
And felt the glad vibrations of the stars. 
A century new rolled grandly into space 
Golden with light of promise, while the old 
Still lingered in the glory of its going. 
Filled was my heart with love, with love of love, 
Of life, of all that is. 

The amber sea. 
The purpling peak, the bursting bud, the bloom, 
Shook me with ecstasy. Sweet love and life 
Thrilled every sense, when lo ! a sound of woe 
Fell on mine ear, and turning, swift as thought, 
I looked from my World Beautiful through shades 
As deep as Hell to that World Hideous where 
My brother dwelt. 

There, grim and gaunt he stood. . . 
Wan-eyed Despair alone companioned him. 
I saw the knotted hands, the twisted frame. 
The hungry eyes, housing a famished soul; 
And even as I gazed, he fell, as falls 
The stricken brute, then struggling w^eakly up 
Bent to his task again, as bent to oar 
The galley slave of old. 



—105— 



Then heard I there, 
In that dark world of his, the lean wolf's cry; 
And saw young babes lie gasping out their lives 
In homes where grewsome Want held fearful sway; 
And beauteous girls I saw, selling themselves 
For bread to thrice-damned monsters guised as men. 
''Christ Jesus," then I gasped, and stood awhile 
In anguish dumb, till like another's voice 
I heard mine own call loudly o'er the gulf 
Of light between. . . 

"Courage, my brother, yet. 
In this new century's dawn, I see foreshown 
That day when God the nations shall convulse ; 
I see His forces rushing on in wrath. 
Across the broad and glimmering Plains of Time 
Torrents of Truth come sweeping on apace 
To inundate the old worlds — yours and mine — 
That from the cleansing may arise and stand 
A nobler world, where Justice shall be king. 
Rise, weary brother, rise and face the morn, 
Rise, brother, rise. . .our God is living yet!" 



—106— 



THE WORLD OF WANT 

Part II. 

The Hills of Hope 

Musing alone upon the Hills of Hope, 

One day, I found sweet Love close at my side, 

Who, looking on me with her steadfast eyes. 

Stood pointing, pointing down. Awhile I gazed 

When lo ! a light flashed in upon my soul 

And I obeyed. The stars shot gleams of joy 

As to the rhythm of the Universe 

Love-led, I left my heights and followed on. 

Blue were the violets and gold the sun. 

Quivered the turf with drops of opal dew; 

And pausing there for one last upward look 

I thought I felt God's hand upon my brow. 

And so with joyous heart I journeyed on, 

Though ever drearer grew the downward path ; 

Skulls, grinning white on either side my way, 

A grisly fungus, sprang upon the view. . . 

Black torrents roared, but on with Love I went, 

Down to the deepest depths of Want's domain. 

And there I thought my heart must surely break 

At sight of woes and wrongs undreamable ; 

Yet I was haply 'ware as on we passed 

That sweet Love shed on direst miseries 

A ray of light divine — a light that grew 

Till, blessed miracle, it shone, a flame 

Rosy and luminous, and bathed this world 

Of darkness in the glory of its glow. 

It fell on starving men and gave them life ; 

It caught and stayed the stealthy hand of crime. 

And young feet drew from the red Walk of Death. 



-107— 



It gave unto long blinded eyes to see 
Where Sin's black precipice drops down to Hell; 
And cunning, crafty eyes, grown wild with hate 
From long oppression, human grew once more. 
It glowed where little children eerie-eyed 
And weary-hearted, toiled. The sick and old, 
Lying in hovels on their beds of pain, 
Started in dreams as though an angel called! 

Par blowing from the purple Hills of Hope 

What sound, sweet Christ, is this that shakes the air, 

And thrills the pulses of Humanity? 

See 'st how the starvelings hush the anguished moan. 

Lifting white, startled faces to the skies. 

While others prostrate fall and hug the earth 

With list'ning ear upon her thrilling heart? 

They come . . . the shining ranks of Brotherhood, 
Led hither by the beacon light of Love . . . 
Now shall God's law in nature be restored — 
The workers of the world loosed of their chains. 
As fell Medusa, of the scorpion locks. 
So shall the Gorgon Want, gray-faced and chill. 
All staring-eyed and sunken-breasted, fall. 
Where grew the bitter, burning thorns of Strife 
Shall bloom the snowy lilies of Content. . . 
So sweep we on into the higher life ; 
So pass we from the purple Hills of Hope 
On to the splendors of the Time-To-Be. 



—108— 



DESTRUCTION OF CARTHAGE 

Music and feasting and mirth, 

And light — in the halls of Rome ; 
While darkness and cold and death enfold 

Each Carthaginian home. 
0, revelers, pause for a space, 

Turning triumphant eyes, 
For a moment o'er to a darkened shore, 

Where desolate Carthage lies. 

For, there in the ashes gray. 

Of every smouldering home. 
That is furrowed now by the ruthless plow, 

Is written the fate of Rome. 
Birds in ominous flight, 

Winds in sorrowing sighs, 
Crowd on the sight of the Seer tonight, 

Their menacing prophecies. 

Man, in the struggle of life, 

A rival is overthrown, 
But pause in the power of the triumph hour 

And read in his fate thine own. 
Ah well proud Scipio weeps. 

Divining his country's fall, 
For Nemesis peers through the veil of years, 

And grimly awaiteth all. 



109- 



AT PHILIPPI 

In the tent the waning light 

Flar-ed low, 
As the Spectre's warning fell 

Sad and slow, 
On the sleeping Brutus' ear, 

Long ago. 

Saw he, as the vision passed. 

Just a trace 
Of the love that once was his, 

In the face 
Cold and pallid, as he cowered 

In his place? 
Felt he all the woeful shame 

Of the thrust 
At the heart which for him held 

No distrust? 
Saw he all his hopes disperse 

As the dust? 

Dreamed he, as the grieving hours 

Faltered by. 
Of the plains beneath the blue 

Thracian sky, 
Where, again he must confront 

Caesar's eye? 

Comes a voice unto us now. 

Low and clear. 
Falls upon the list'ning heart — 

Will ye hear? 
Telling of a day that still 

Draweth near. 

—110— 



When the good resolves we crush 

In their bloom, — 
Tender plants of love that die 

In the gloom 
Of the heart where Self and Pride 

Leave no room. — 

Shall in spectral form arise, 

By and by, 
On the day when we shall stand — 

You and I — 
On the borders of our own 

Philippi. 



1 — 



LIBERTY BELL DAY 

(At Panama-Pacific International Exposition) 

From out the caverns of the Past 

The Old Bell comes 

To speak to us upon Balboa's shore. 

The voice long prisoned 

In that throat of bronze 

Yet sound today 

Above the cannons' roar; 

And through it still Leviticus intones 

A message that is heard around the world. 

''Pro-c-1-a-i-m Liberty 

Throughout all the land, 

Unto all 

The inhabitants thereof. . . " 

The songs of little children 

Mingle with the din of trumpets . . . 

Roses snow and scarlet, violets blue. 

Vie with the Sacred Colors rippling high 

Or borne by grizzled veterans; 

And in the swaying crowd, I see 

Faces from all nations of the earth 

With eyes upturned, in silent homage. [hearts — 

The soul of the Old Bell speaks to our list'ning 

The air is tense. 



—112— 



The golden pansies send their incense up. 

About the Fount of Energy 

White doves are circling. 

The blue Pacific stretches out before. 

Across that sea are dying men, 

Their flocks untended, 

Their fields untilled, 

The fires of Home gone out 

Upon the hearth. 

What does the Old Bell say, 

Speaking to us today 

Upon Balboa's shore? 

June, 1915. 



13- 



IN MEMORY OF DONALD HANKEY 

(Author of "A Student In Arms," — died in action, Oct. 26, '16.) 

A year ago, upon the Western Front, 

You died in action, 

Who wrote of "The Belov-ed Captain," 

''Wastrels," 

And "The Flowers of Flanders." 

Bravely, 

As was your wont 

To any task assigned, 

You went to death. 

I mind how gentle Keats 

With dying breath, 

Low murmur-ed : 

"I feel the flowers growing over me," 

And think, with that Hellenic soul. 

You must have felt 

Lilies of Galilee, 

Campions and ragged robins 

Growing over you 

Upon that field of red. 

And the Belov-ed Captain must have come 

And knelt in darkness there — 

As in the days of old — 

With Christ-like care, 

To minister once more to the bruised feet. 

And all the merry wastrels — 

Boyish-sweet — 

Who made Death look a fool, in face 

Of their high courage, — 

Lingered near. 

To lend their cheer 

To you, loved Student. 

When, at last, — like them 

Beyond the reach of War's alarms, — 

You. too, laid down your arms. 

—114— 



FLAME IT ON 

Flame it across the sea, 

Flame it on ! 
To every bivouac fire let the lightning leap and run, 

Flame it on! 
That the world has seen the horning of a new 

Democracy, 
And the bells of death are sounding for an old Auto- 
cracy, 

Flame it on, on, on, 

Flame it on! 

Flame it across the sea, 

Flame it on! 
Down lines of distant battle let the fiery message 
run. 

Flame it on ! 
That the God of Right is marching in the Armies of 

the Free 
And the Universe is rocking to the tread of Liberty, 

Flame it on, on, on, 

Flame it on! 



—115- 



SONG OP THE MARCHING FEET 

(Dedicated to the Red Cross) 

Beat, Beat, 

Go the feet — marching; 

Staunch feet, steady feet, 

Dauntless and ready feet, 

Off for the fray; 

Fearless and cheery their marching, 

Marching — marching away. 

Soft be the wool we are knitting, 

Firm and fair be the fitting, 

As, fingers so fleet 

We knit toi the beat. 

The beat of the marching feet. 

Mothers, these are the feet, 

That warm and velvety pmk. 

You held in the hollow of your one hand — 

Cunning as one could think! 

(God, in the hollow of thy dear Hand 

Hold them safe by sea and by land;) 

Marching, marching, marching today. 

The feet are marching away. 

And these are the roguish feet, 
That heedless of rhyme or rule. 
Through puddles of tempting mud 
Splashed happily home from school. 
(Stern the road for the feet today. 
Puddles of red by Flanders' way;) 
Marching, marching, marching are they. 
The feet are marching away. 



■116— 



Swiftly the fingers are flitting, 

Here, where the women sit, knitting; 

But the labor is sweet, 

And high hearts beat 

To the beat of the marching feet, 

Ah ! for those boyish feet. 

Should they march o'er the heavenly hill, 

These love-knit stitches of wool 

May comfort and warm them still. 

(Mother of Him of the pierc-ed feet, 

List for a martial beat, beat, beat. . .) 

Beat, Beat, 
All through the day. 
Our hearts with the feet 
Go marching away. 



—117- 



THE MAIDEN TO DIANA 

Diana, in your moon car, 
O'er the fields of France — 

Tell me if you see my Knight 
Of the shining lance. 

You'll know him in his khaki, 

The same lad is he 
Who watched for you at even, 

By the old gate with me. 

As you did love Endymion, — 
So dear to me, is he. . . 

0, steal where he lies sleeping 
And touch his lips for me . . . 

Diana, in your silver car, 
Over Flanders' plain. 

Tell me not you see my love 
Sleeping with the slain. . . 



■118— 



THE STAR 

Laddie, in camps of war, 

Wherever your brown head lies — 

Watch for the gleam of a golden star, 
Set as a sign in the skies. 

For I whispered my love afar — 
Winging it up through the blue — 

And from its bosom of gold, the star 
Is shining it down to you. 



BROTHERS 

A wind arose in the night, 

And blew through the hearts of men, 
And Self fell away like a blight — 

Lo, they were brothers again. 

A Flag went over the sea. 

Its Stars and Stripes unfurled, 

And the winds of Liberty 

Went sweeping around the world. 



19- 



THE PROBLEM 

"Now, come ye" quoth the Master, 

''Now, come ye, one and all, 
And solve a problem I will give 

Alike to the great and small." 

And then he gave the problem — 

A wonderful one, I ween, — 
And bade them solve it on a board, 

The largest was ever seen. 

And the children all went forward 

To solve the wonderful sum; 
And millions stood at the blackboard, 

And millions are yet to come. 

Some made glorious figures. 

With beautiful curves and signs — 

And some made hideous blunders, 
With crooked, horrible lines. 

Some who began in earnest. 
Grew hasty and tired so soon 

That the goodly work of the morning 
Was blotted and soiled by noon. 

And some, as the shades of even 

Grew nigh, cried out in pain; 
''Ah, now I could solve the problem, 

Could I but begin again." 

And still they worked at the blackboard- 
While millions looked on to see — 

And the Master saw each figure, 
But never a word spake he. 

—120— 



And lo ! the girls grew women — 

Fair as the radiant sun — 
And the little boys were bearded, 

While yet was the task not done. 

For still it grew stranger and deeper, 
And nearer the great throng pressed. 

To see the wonderful problem 
And he who should solve it best. 

And the workers there at the blackboard 
Grew weary and bent with years. 

And the board was white with figures, 
And dampened with many tears. 

At last when their failing vision 
Grew dim in the waning light. 

They knew that the answer was coming, 
And shivered in vague affright. 

Then Death came in at the doorway — 
The Master was in his place — 

''The children have solved the problem, 
I see by each tranquil face. 

By the Grace of God, I, therefore. 
The great King Death, proclaim 

The long, long problem's answer. 
And the workers' age and name. 

And every vice and virtue 

Of their lives is here unfurled; 

For the children solved the Sum of Life, 
On the Blackboard of the World." 



■121 



THE GOLD SEEKERS 

The panting steamer slowly drops 
Away from the crowded pier; 

The blackened decks recede from view 
And leave me musing here. 

Away where the gold so warm and red 
Lies hid in the dark earth's breast; 

Little the reck of danger and cold, 
Aglow with the golden quest. 

The radiant youth with kindling eye, 

In manhood's early dawn. 
The pale man with the student's stoop, 

The stalwart man of brawn — 

All, all with fevered, burning gaze 
Fixed on the fields of gold; 

Ah, well-a-day! for a faith that's firm 
And a heart that is brave and bold. 

For those there be who will come again 
All broken, and bent and wan; 

And others left in the Arctic snows 
Will slumber forever on. 

And some will empty-handed come, 
Who have missed the golden goal; 

And some with gold, too dear, alas! 
The price of a sinless soul. 



—122— 



And those at home will sit at night — 
And the wind sweeps where it wills- 

With hearts away in a lonely shack 
In the wild Alaskan hills. 

'Tis thus I muse on the lonely quay 
Whence the hurrying crowd is gone, 

While far away for the frozen North 
A flag of smoke trails on. 



—123— 



THE GLORY HOLE 

The story still is told — 

Wherever men forgather in that far land of gold — 

How that he came ♦ 

With eyes blue-flame, 

Down through the Artie cold 

To an old mine, [earth hidden, 

Where workers delved for treasure in the brown 

And gave himself unbidden, 

Pouring his young strength out like golden wine. 

The foreman on his morning round, 

Paused, gazed and frowned: 

'^No work for you," he said, ''move on;" 

But nooning found him still not gone; 

''What are you working for?" the foreman cried; 

"Working for glory, sir;" the youth replied. 

Smiling and undismayed. . . 

And on that footing stayed. 

And so the spot was called "The Glory Hole," 

Half in derision — 

But strangely prospered every soul; 

The spirit of the dauntless lad 

Made tired hearts to be glad — 

Each kindling dawn 

Saw some new feat of brain or brawn; [vision, 

Men gave their fealty to him whose was the greater 

And in good time he grew to be — 

So runs the story — [glory. 

Joint owner in the mine where first he worked for 



-124— 



A homely tale of pluck 

And high endeavor, . . 

Conquest of circumstance 

To set the red blood glowing; 

There be who call it luck, 

And so forever, 

Uncertain as the fickle breezes blowing 

Drift on the tides of chance. 



—125— 



HOLD THE TOECH HIGH 

Hold the torch high! 

Let it flare on the wind ; 
Fling the flame far, 

There are others behind. 

See the white stars 

Leaning out from the blue, 
Heavenly messengers 

Beckoning you. . . 

Flame of your truth 

Streaming up to the stars, 
Shall shine down a healing 

For sin and its scars. 

Hold the torch high! 

You may light up the trail, 
Souls of new Galahads 

Seeking the Grail. 



126- 



THE TWO CANDLES 

I saw two candles burning 

In Life's room; 
A thousand more, unlighted, 

In the gloom . . . 

One gave the others freely 

Of its light, 
And one gave nothing through 

The long, dark night. 

The light of one, a thousand-fold 

Was multiplied. . . 
None marked the selfish candle 

When its cold light died. 



—127— 



MEMORIAL MORN IN THE CEMETERY 

Shadows, like mourners, still lingering, weeping, 
Lie on the graves where the soldiers are sleeping. 

Soldiers who died for Columbia's glory 

Blind to our weeping, and deaf to the story; 

Home, after marches all lonely and weary, 
Rest they in silence somber and eerie. 

Drops hanging heavy, like tears on the lashes, 
Gleam where a beam of the early light flashes. 

Softly and sweetly the breezes are hymning. 

As eyes of the stars in the dawning are dimming; 

For over the world, in its beauty awaking. 
The dawn of Memorial morning is breaking. 

Laden with garlands, she moves in her splendor. 
Morning of memories tearful yet tender. 

Shower the white flowers on mounds overarching, 
As, down the dim aisles come veterans marching. 

Patriots! ever, from all desecration. 
Guard this Memorial Day of the Nation; 

For years are as beads; Time telling them slowly, 
Shall add to the Past new memories holy. 

Till graves which the garlands today are adorning, 
Shall ope in the light of Eternity's morning. 



—128— 



THE CHILDREN'S FLOWERS 

0, the armies of little children, 

With faces fresh as the flowers, 
Marching and countermarching 

Over this land of ours. 
Hearts as pure as the dew drop, 

Thoughts as sweet as a prayer, 
Bright Memorial morning 

Thou 'It shine on naught so fair. 

Into those halls of silence, 

Where sleep the Nation's dead, 
When the muffled drum is beating 

To the veterans' martial tread; 
Above the strains of music, 

Throbbing so faint and sweet, 
Is heard, with thrilling heartstrings, 

The sound of the children's feet. 

Over the graves of the heroes, 

Bending with tender grace, 
They lay their snowy tributes 

Lovingly there in place. 
And, I think, to the angels watching. 

No flowers are quite so fair, 
As those which the hands of children 

Have laid in their fragrance there. 



—129— 



SPEED THE DAY 

Beameth there a kindlier dawn? 

Speed the day! 
Lamp of Love and Brotherhood, 

Light the way! 
When no man shall calmly sleep 
While his stricken brothers weep, 
And the lean wolf evermore 
Howleth at a neighbor's door; 
When no one shall ask for bread 
And receive a stone instead — 

Speed the day! 

Beameth there a kindlier dawn. 

As we pray, 
Quickening the hearts of men? 

Speed the day! 
When Christ's lambs no more shall lie 
In foul tenements and die, 
While His sunshine streameth bright 
Where sweet fields of daisies white 
Listen, open-eyed, to greet 
Welcome sounds of children's feet — 

Speed the day! 



—130— 



Yes, a kindlier morning breaks 

Through the gray! 
It is dawning, it is here — 

Speed the day! 
Justice leans with list'ning ear. 
And with heart attuned to hear 
Suffering's sorrowful appeals, 
'Bove the roar of Mammons' wheels; 
Men of giant heart and mind, 
Champions of human kind 

Speed the day! 



—131— 



THE ROSE OF PEACE 

Spirit of War, with sulph'rous breath, 
Begone, thou red Ally of Death! 
And hide thee, hide thee, bloody Mars, 
Behind the snowy-surpliced Stars! 
Across the Universe they speak — 
Deep-throated bells — from peak to peak 
Their far-blown echoes throb and roll 
Into the chambers of the soul. . . 
''Smile sea and earth, and field and flower, 
They ring, ''Christ's blessing on the hour. 
Behold, the Rose of Peace unfurled 
In God's fair Garden of the World." 



-132— 



Part IV 

MEMORY PRINTS 



MEMORY PRINTS 
Michigan Woods 

Winter in the woods. . . 

Deep snow — piled high. 

A new cabin — rough boards 

Smelling sweet and cedary. . . 

Men from the mill eating; 

One called Eric 

With blue eyes and red nose. 

Dusk... [water... 

My father with a shining new tin pail going for 

I, following — trying to step in his tracks, — 

Deep wells of snow — 

Steep down a snow-bank, a little spring 

Gurgling over moss and brown pebbles... 

My father dipping the water. 

Tin pail tinkling on the pebbles... 

And, in the light of the young moon 

A slender green fish, 

Darting, circling wildly around the gleaming walls 

Of its tall tin prison. 



—135— 



IN COUNT OKUMA'S GARDENS 

Winds of faint fragrance, 

Blowing full dreamily, 

Kissing the faces 

Of pale, mystic orchids; 

Dainty, pink petals 

Of cherry-bloom drifting 

Lazily down 

Over shrines of the Olden. . . 

Garden of Poesy, 

Beauty enthralling! 

I walk there in Fancy 

Though seas roll between. 



HERE'S TO THE LAND OP THE BLOSSOMING 

CHERRY 

For Yone Noguchi 
Here's to the Land of the blossoming cherry, 

Here 's to the friends that we prize ; 
And here's to the hours, both pensive and merry, 

Spent under Japanese skies. 



—136— 



BARONESS ALBERT d'ANETHAN 

Belgian Legation, Tokyo, Japan 

You are wearing a large white hat . . . 

Sitting in the gardens 

Of Legation de Belgique, 

Reading to me from the unpublished manuscript 

Of you new book. . . 

A great golden Buddha 

Gazing placidly upon us 

Glitters in the sunlight. 

The camelia-trees 

Are in bloom. . . 

I have been thinking of you today — 

And of how your heart has since been torn 

With grief 

Over Belgium. . . 

And how you can, at last. 

Be glad 

That the good Baron did not live to see 

The desecration of the loved land he represented 

In the Mikado's realm — 

But, in that little Buddhist burying-ground, 

Dreams of the smiling Belgium 

Of his youth. . . 

While great Lafcadio Hearn 

Lies near. 

Dreaming long dreams 

Of Old Japan. 



—137— 



IN GRAMERCY PARK 

TwOi busy birds above our heads, 

Murmur of mating mysteries; 
A-shine in snowy moons of bloom 

Stand seven slim magnolia trees. 

I sit alone with Spring — and you, 

The iron gates keep watch and ward; 

The slanting sunbeams sift their gold 
O'er tree and sward. 

A timid wish I keep to make 

When one sweet star swims in the skies; 
I wait. . .then turn to see my star 

Is prisoned in your eyes. 



-138— 



WESTPORT-BY-THE-SEA 

I wish that I might walk today 
Where roll the waters cool and gray, 
Across that wild and windy strand 
Where rise those haunting heaps of sand- 
Those sands at first so drear to me, 
Those sands that are so dear to me. 
At Westport-by-the-Sea. 

I saw thy stately lighthouse tower 
First in a summer sunset hour, 
And heard the merry, lilting tunes 
Of children singing on the dunes — 
Those sifting, shifting waves of sand, 
Those mellow, yellow graves of sand, — 
Those sands so mystical to me. 
At Westport-by-the-Sea. 

Companioned only by my dreams 
I marked Aurora's crimson beams, 
And, there where now the jetty runs, 
I heard the boom of hostile guns; 
Across those sands of history, 
Across those sands of mystery — 
Those sands so magical to me, 
At Westport-by-the-Sea. 



—139- 



V 



I saw thy changing harbor-light 
Streaming athwart the misty night; 
And 'bove the breakers' roar and din 
I heard the pulsing tide creep in 
Across those shimmering piles of sand, 
Across those glimmering tiles of sand — 
Those sands so wonderful to me, 
At Westport-by-the-Sea. 

At twilght, where the laurel waves 
Above those lonely Indian graves, 
I thought I saw the warriors stand 
Upon the dunes, a spectral band — 
Among those quivering rills of sand. 
Among those shivering hills of sand. 
Strange and mysterious to me. 
At Westport-by-the-Sea. 

I would that I were there today, 
I mind me that the skies are gray; 
And yet I would that I might be 
Where wdnds of Heaven wander free; 
Could hear again the lilting tunes 
The children sang upon the dunes — 
The dunes at first so drear to me. 
The dunes that are so dear to me. 
At Westport-by-the-Sea. 



—140- 



ON CALIFORNIA'S RUSSET HILLS 

On California's russet hills 

I walked one autumn day, 
Knee-deep the pointed, perfumed quills 

Of pine around me lay; 
A golden glow was in the air, 
A glow of gold was everywhere. 

On California's russet hills. 
Amid her leaves and vines, 

I drank with deep, ecstatic thrills 
The perfume of her pines; 

Afar, on fair Francisco Bay 

A white-winged boat at anchor lay. . . 

My heart had striven long with pain — 

Its fetters fell away, 
I felt a thrill of joy again 

That fair, autumnal day 
I trod the piney, perfumed quills 
On California's russet hills. 



—141 — 



WHERE THE EHODODENDRONS GROW 

There's a mystical spot I know 

Where the shadows swing and sway. 

And the musical breezes blow 

Through the sweet of the summer day; 

And there, an ocean of rose and snow, 

My beautiful rhododendrons grow. 

In the glow of the soft June light 

Their faces glimmer and gleam, 
Or they swing on the breast of night 

In a sweet and languorous dream — 
O, Minstrel Wind play soft, play low, 
Where the beautiful rhododendrons grow. 

The fays have a crimson bower 

In the blossom's heart, I ween, 
And they dance in the midnight hour 

On the leaves of emerald sheen — 
0, lightly come, and lightly go 
Where the magical rhododendrons grow. 

Bloom on, through the summer hours 

In park or in forest way ; 
Blush on, luminous flowers ! 

There's a charm that will ever stay 
In a fragrant nook, on a road I know. 
Where the rose-lipped rhododendrons grow. 



-142- 



MORRO ROCK 

Morro Beach, California 

Daring white riders. . . 
Plunging green horses. . . 
Endless battalions 
Ever advancing 
In thund'rous assault; 
Where Morro, the Silent, 
Dark, enigmatic, 
Still and symbolic, 
Tovv^ers o'er the tumult — 
And heeds not the splashing, 
The crashing and dashing — 
The frothing uproar 
At his feet. 



—143— 



AT FUNERAL PYRE OF JOAQUIN MILLER 

Here, on your rugged steeps, 

O, Poet, 

I dream of Oeta, in the Grecian hills; 

And of that other strong man 

Who gave his mighty bow and arrows 

To Philoctetes, 

And laid him down serene 

Upon his funeral pyre — 

His lion-skin drawn over him, 

His hunter's club 

Beneath his head. . . 

Even so, you. 

Through sunset flame I see 

Ascending, 

Your own Mount Oeta. . . 

Arrows of your song 

Flung free, 

To pierce with poignant melody 

The souls of men; 

Strongheart. . .poet. . .hunter of dreams... 

As Heracles, ascending, 
Took his destined place 
Among the stars, 
Even so, you. . . 



—144— 



I see your kingly star 
Wheel grandly in 
To its appointed place, 
Where God is busy — 
In His highest heaven — 
Setting a new constellation, 
Blazoned with souls 
Of Earth's dead poets, 
Singing gloriously! 



145- 



A LINE OR TWO 

For Arequipa Club Banquet, on being asked for 
"A Line or Two." 

What can we say in a line or two, 

When friends are dear and hearts are true? 

How can I bring in a line or two, 

The fragrant thoughts I would leave with you? 

Ah — forever old and forever new. 
Life's tale may be told in a line or two. . . 

For, versed in Friendship's mystic signs. 
We may read the story between the lines. 



—146— 



Part V 

SONNETS 



MOUNT TACOMA 

An actor of weird power and grace art thou! 

In what role can I say I love thee best? 

When, like a surpliced priest who late confessed 

The dying, thou dost stand with pensive brow 

In solemn contemplation? Or, anon. 

When like a new-made bride, rosy and bright 

And warm with blushes, dimpling in the light 

Of sunrise? Or, all sorrowful and wan. 

In the blue pallor of a wintry day 

Like a sad spirit in its winding-sheet? 

Nay, none of these doth suit my fancy well 

As when at night I see thee, stern and gray, 

The Sentry of the Sound, at midnight spell, 

Guarding the sleeping treasure at thy feet. 



MOUNT TAMALPAIS 

Leaving the mists and bare brown hills below 

We came to Tamalpais, where he stood 

In kirtle all of green, like Robin Hood, 

His Merry Men around. A golden glow 

Filled all the air. We looked above and lo ! 

The crescent moon at midday smiled, as 'twould 

Meet us half way. Birds warbled: "God is good," 

The breezes, 'round us sang, and row on row, 

The serried hills replied. Beneath us frowned 

San Quentin's prison walls, while San Rafael, 

A picture city, shimmered in the sun. 

A blue stream babbled near. Afar, the sound 

Of mighty billows, booming: ''All is well! 

Shout, Peaks, and praise Him, the Eternal One!" 



—149— 



CALIFORNIA 

If I, most humble of all bards, dare sing 
The glories of this storied Land of Gold, 
Esteem me honest, friends, if overbold. 
I love thy circling hills — a giant ring, 
Set with the sapphire of Saint Francis' Bay; 
I stand upon their russet heights and gaze 
O'er mystic miles of blue and watery ways 
Out through the Golden Gate^ at set of day, 
And deem that Heaven itself lies close at hand; 
And when God's white stars look with radiant 

gleam 
Through drooping leaves of Eucalyptus, I, 
A vagrant idler in this lyric land 
Confess her beauties utterly, and lie 
Upon her breast and dream and dream and dream. 



THE PEAKS AT DAWN 

The swart king. Night, with death has come to grips; 
The tender sky has sent her cooling balm. 
And pressed in pity to his paling lips 
Her crucifix of stars. Grey-grim and calm 
Old peaks, the chill watch keep, sitting with feet 
Drawn under them — each huddled in her shawl 
Of mist — waiting with hard, cold eyes replete 
With irony, the bearers of the pall. 

One virgin peak tugs at my heart for that 
She cradles something to her bosom bare ; 
Finds the young Morning sanctuary there 
From runners of the dusky autocrat? 
Swathed in Madonna blue she sits... and now 
A coming glory aureoles her brow. 



-150— 



UNREVEALED 

O beauteous songs awaiting to be sung. . . 

O, priceless love that never is revealed 

But, lies like jewels of the sea, concealed. 

O, pearls of thought awaiting to be strung. . . 

O, warrior brave, who never rode afield; 

O, val 'rous knight, who never bore a shield . . . 

O Poet, whose wild songs have never rung 

Out to the world, but with strange, subtle art 

Make everything in nature thine by right . . . 

O, pictures fair, awaiting still the hand 

Of cunning, that shall play its destined part — 

Be patient, wait ... 'twill not be always night; 

Soon shall be heard the great word of command! 



151 — 



TACOMA, THE ROSE OF THE WEST 

There's a city whose star 
Sends its radiance afar, 

A city the fairest, the best; 
We hear of its glory, 
In song and in story, 

Tacoma, the Rose of the West. 

Chorus — 
Then, follow the light of Tacoma's star, 
Come from anear. 
Come from afar; 
Over the hills and over the plain, 
List to the sound of the stirring strain. . . 
Follow the star 
Destiny's star, 

Come where the myriad workers are ; 
Gracious and blest, 
Fairest and best, 
Tacoma, Tacoma, the Rose of the West. 

For the brave and the bold, 
Both glory and gold 

Await at the end of the quest; 
Where sea-winds' aroma 
Breathe over Tacoma, 

Tacoma, the Rose of the West. 



—152— 



THE RARE OLD, FAIR OLD STATE OF 
WASHINGTON 

(Read before Washington State Press Association 

upon the author's return from a year's travel and 

study in the Orient.) 

I sing the charms of Washington. . .how bright her 

shores appear 
Returning from an alien land, and old home friends 

— how dear! 
Let poets of Yamato praise her dreamy Inland Sea, 
Fair Puget's smiling waters are more beautiful to 

me, 
Oft have I gazed on Fuji San, whose sacred heights 

arise 
Stately and awe-inspiring, against Gotemba's skies; 
Gazed on great Fujiyama, all mystical and lone, 
And wondered in what changing light our own 

loved mountain shone . . , 

For, dearer than the rest, 
And better than the best 

Is this golden region of the Setting Sun... 
You may travel anywhere 
And find nothing to compare 

With the rare old, fair old State of Washington. 



—153— 



Though we touched at fragrant isles in summer seas, 

Where the odorous ilang-ilang perfumed each pass- 
ing breeze ; 

Though temples rose in beauty across the Quannon 
plains, 

And miles of cherry blossoms made pink the country 
lanes ; 

Though weirdly smiling Buddhas were seen on every 
hand, 

And poesy and wonder were over all the land. . . 

Yet, dearer than the rest, 
And better than the best 

Is this golden region of the Setting Sun . . . 
You may travel anywhere 
And find nothing to compare 

With the rare old, fair old State of Washington. 



—154— 



ENCHANTMENT 

In dreams of glory I have seen the hills — 
The hills enwrapped in mystic, purple haze, 

With shadows dancing on the silver rills 
And blossoms blossoming in sunlit ways. 

And I have walked in the enchanted road. 
And I have climbed the dizzy hill alone. 

Where holly and green bay and roses strewed 
The path that led me to my waiting throne. 

Awake me not too rudely; I would fain 

Dream on in glory while the morning stays..* 

I do not care for all your worldly gain — 
I do not wish to learn your wiser ways. 

For, though I miss the purple magic gleam. 
And all my fairest hopes dissolve in tears, 

I'd rather have the memory of the dream 
Than all the wise philosophy of years. 

One moment when the thrill of fire divine 
Bathes life in its celestial, rosy hue. 

Then joy and peace and faith and hope are mine, 
And life is ecstasy. . .and love is true. 



—155— 



LAUGHTER TOWN 

Here are lush, green places, friends, 
Let us pause e'er the journey ends. 

Pitch our tents where the river sings 
The peace and rapture of little things... 

Lie on our backs, away from the din, 
And let the gold of the sun sink in . . . 

Draw down laughter from the trees, 
Drink of Nature's melodies... 

Putting off the fret and frown. . . 
Getting back to Laughter town ! 



-156— 



SEAL IT AWAY 

The Old Year dies tonight, 

Seal it away; 
All in the snowy light — 

Seal it away; 
The record is finished forever and aye, 
Sign it and seal it and fold it away, 
To bide in silence the Judgment Day . . . 

Seal it away. 

Roll up the scroll tonight, 

Seal it away; 
In the midnight, cold and white. 

Seal it away; 
Seal it away with its mysteries. 
Its sweet or sorrowful histories, 
High as the heavens, deep as the seas, . . 

Seal it away. 

Speed it with smiles or tears, 

Seal it away; 
In the Book of Eternal Years, 

Seal it away; 
View through the misty distances, 
Its pitiful inconsistencies. 
Its yieldings and its resistances... 

Seal it away. 



—157— 



Fold it away from sight, 

Seal it away; 
Alike with its bloom or blight, 

Seal it away; 
Behold, the Keeper has come for the keys, 
Seal with the seal of the centuries, 
The record shall stand for aye as it is. . . 

Seal it away. 



-158— 



